


Taking Your Hand

by tisfan



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky 2016/2017 [31]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fantasy AU, Fish tank, Groping, Kissing, M/M, mermaid au, octobucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: There's the Reef and there's the Drop...And then, there's an octomer with a bad attitude and a lionfish who's become his obsession...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monobuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/gifts), [eriot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriot/gifts), [WishUponAHoshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishUponAHoshi/gifts).



> Now with art from [monobuu](http://monobuu.tumblr.com/)

There’s the Reef, and then there’s the Drop. Along the Reef, the various piscines live in their small village. The Reef waters are warm and fertile, the village is protected. Beyond the Reef is the Drop and then the unknown. Piscines that venture beyond seldom make it back and those that do are forever changed by their adventures.

Cephs aren’t allowed in the village. They’re violent, the piscines say, prone to fighting among themselves, and there are dark whispers that say cephs have actually _eaten_ piscines.

There’s one, though, a dark-haired octomer with a mangled and battered body, his arms covered in scars, and more than one of them missing outright (some say he tangled with a great white, but Tony isn’t sure he believes that) that lingers on the border and watches the village. Watches… Tony, in particular.

He’s staring again, and Tony flutters behind the coral reef.

“He’s watching me,” Tony reports. A shiver runs down his spine.

“That’s because you look tasty,” Obie says. The rooster-fish, big, muscular and mean, is Tony’s guardian. Which means he’s eating most of Tony’s food and saying Tony should be grateful for it. He reaches out and pokes at one of Tony’s spines. “Don’t worry, though. He’ll find out you’re poisonous, soon enough.”

“Rather be venomous,” Tony mutters.

“Maybe we could rip off your spines and hurl them like javelins,” Obie says. “Just ignore it. It’ll go away if you stop paying attention.”

Tony rolls his eyes. Like that ever works.

***

Ignoring the octomer doesn’t work. Tony says so, but he is pretty sure no one’s listening.

The village elders call a meeting to discuss what to do; no one has been to war in generations. There’ve been a few skirmishes, where some of the bigger, more fierce piscines have tried to get the octomer to leave.

“We don’t even know he’s a threat,” Tony protests. “He hasn’t done anything, he’s just watching.”

“It’s only watching you, Stark. I can hardly imagine why,” Stern says. He’s one of the elders, a puffy blowfish.

“What, do you think I should go talk to him? Find out what he wants?”

Tony is being sarcastic, but a surprising number of the other piscenes take him seriously at exactly the wrong moment. Why _now_ , when they’ve never treated him like anything other than an extension of his father? And Stern isn’t exactly nice about it; points out that Tony won’t be missed if it goes all wrong.

Which is how Tony finds himself with an armful of clams -- an offering to a creature with uncertain motives and appetites, He creeps around the side of the coral reefs. He’s not sanguine about the situation in the slightest. “Hello, hello Mr. Octoperson… hello?”

“Septoperson,” came a resentful voice.

“Huh?”

“Don’t have eight arms anymore, just seven,” the octomer says. Tony almost drops his armful of food, startled. The octomer has been blending in with a section of coral and Tony didn’t see him at all. That is… not the least bit scary, Tony tells himself firmly.

“Uh, okay,” Tony says. He holds out one hand, offering a clam. “The… the uh, village wants to know what you’re doing out here?”

The octomer -- septomer, whatever! -- waggles the stumpy tentacle at him, stirring the water. Bubbles form everywhere and for a moment, Tony can’t see. “You think I can be out in th’ Deep, like this?”

“You’re here for safety?” Probably not the best plan, given that he’s agitating the piscenes. It won’t be long, Tony knows, before they attack, just to make the septomer go away.

The septomer shrugs. “An’ other things. Came here, for safety. After.”

Tony considers this; seems unfair for the villagers to drive him off. He wonders what other things, but decides it’s not his business. The septo-- oh, great Neptune, that’s just ridiculous, calling him that. “Do you… my name’s Tony,” he says.

“I do. Whatever it is that you’re asking.” The septomer snatches one of the clams out of Tony’s hands, and that would be a little unnerving, except he does it and the tip of his tentacle strokes down Tony’s cheek, a sneaky little caress. “Name’s Bucky.” He ignores Tony for a moment, cracking open the clam with a powerful arm and then devouring the succulent meat inside.

“You’re making everyone nervous,” Tony points out, but he’s still handing over the clams to Bucky as quick as Bucky can eat them. Bucky is thin, too thin, really. From up close, Tony can count his ribs.

“Do I make _you_ nervous, starfish?”

“You stare at me,” Tony says.

“You’re pretty,” Bucky says. His arms poke and slide along Tony’s ribs, against his fishtail, lift up his hair.

Tony twitches away from the exploratory arms just to bump into other ones. Bucky’s arms are everywhere, touching, caressing, seeking. It’s unnerving, Tony thinks. And kind of nice at the same time. Tony’s used to being ignored, except by his few friends. His father was a fierce warrior and the village has been disappointed with the way Tony’s turned out.

“I like looking at you,” Bucky says. “You’re th’ only interesting thing in that fishbowl of chum.”

Tony spits a jet a seawater in Bucky’s direction. “Rude.”

“What? Callin’ ‘em chum? Ain’t we all, starfish?”

“You’re using them for protection,” Tony points out.

“Don’t gotta outswim the shark,” Bucky says, shrugging his one shoulder. “Just gotta outswim the slowest one of them.”

“Are you really that cruel?”

“Your fishie-wishie friends throw rocks at me,” Bucky says, indicating a pattern of bruising along his ribs. “An’ they mock you. Maybe you should ask if they deserve it. Or you.”

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t deserve you,” Bucky says, his arms going around Tony’s back and waist and pulling him in close. “They sent you out to me to die.”

“Of course they didn’t,” Tony says. He probably wouldn’t _die_ ; his spines protect him. It is more likely that Bucky would die, if he tries to hurt Tony. Of course, he’s also not sure that Bucky isn’t right. No one really likes him. Even his few friends keep a careful distance between them.

“You should come with me,” Bucky offers, holding out his hand.

“Go where, you already said --”

“I have a place to sleep,” Bucky says. “An old human thing, a floater that doesn’t float anymore. We’d be safe there. Safer than here.”

“Why?”

Bucky shrugs. “You talk to me. You’re nice to look at. You brought me food. And news that I won’t be safe here, much longer. It’d be nice to have company, starfish. An’ I can’t think of better company than you. Come on, you don’t have anything here that you’d be leavin’ behind.”

Tony looks back over the village where he grew up.

Where the village leader tells him he won’t be missed. Obie eats most of Tony’s food anyway.

Bucky is nice. And looking at him with a heated gaze.

Tony puts his hand in Bucky’s. “Well that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic. I'm just not the adventurous type. Clearly.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone,” Bucky says. He tugs, just a little.

And Tony swims away with him. Not looking back.

 


	2. Holding On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WIth arts from [Monobuu](http://monobuu.tumblr.com/) and   
> [latelierderiot](http://latelierderiot.tumblr.com/)

Tony has never been outside the village before. Obie wouldn’t let him, even if Tony hadn’t been taught, practically from spawning, that he’s weak and useless, and while a predator would probably die from biting him, Tony would die, too.

Tony darts from thicket to thicket, keeping as close to Bucky as he can, but never wanting to be in open water for more than a few seconds. Tony knows his bright gold scales show up in the water, like a flash of light that cries out, here, here is something to eat.

Tony dives under an outcropping of stone, gills working overtime. He has never been this far away from home, he doesn’t know if he could find his way back if Bucky abandons him, and he does, in fact, expect that.

Which hurts, deep in his chest, and Tony doesn’t even know why.

“Starfish?”

“I’m fine,” Tony says, pushing Bucky away. Those clingy tentacles feel nice, wrapped around his arm, his back, soothing and squeezing, but at the same time-- “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Bucky says, and he loosens his hold on Tony, keeping only one tentacle wrapped around Tony’s wrist. It feels good. Balancing, somehow. Compassionate.

Caring.

It occurs to Tony that the only time piscines ever put their hands on Tony was to drag him somewhere, or push him away. No one ever holds onto him just because they want to.

“No, I’m fine--” Tony slides further under the outcropping until his spines are pushing into the rock, scraping at the ocean floor below. A dark shadow moves between them and the surface, something _huge_.

“Oh, that’s just a whale, starfish,” Bucky tells him. “I know, really big, right? But he only eats krills, he’s not interested in us. Sometimes, there’s whole packs of fish around him, because he keeps them safe from predators, up under those big fins of his. I’ve travelled that way, sometimes. They can go quite a distance.”

“I’ve never been this far away from the village before,” Tony confesses, and he waits for Bucky to say something about how useless Tony is, how much work it is to take care of Tony, how Tony is a bother, a burden.

“Do you need to rest a bit?” Bucky asks him, and that one tentacle snakes up Tony’s arm until the tip is rubbing against Tony’s cheek. “Are you hungry? This is a good spot, you’ve got good eyes, very defensible. I can get us something to eat, if you want to rest here a bit?”

“And what’s that going to cost me?” Tony asks. He doesn’t have anything to pay, not here. All his father’s remaining wealth is back at the village. Obie’s probably already claimed it.

“I’ll take a kiss,” Bucky says, light and-- Tony squints at him. He’s heard that tone of voice before, but never aimed at him. It’s the mating speech, not a language, but a posture and crooning persuasiveness and charm.

Tony is so surprised that he doesn’t object -- he isn’t even sure he would object even if he has time -- and Bucky swims in closer. His many arms circle around Tony’s back, deftly weaving under and around the venomous fin rays along Tony’s back, pulling him in until Tony can’t decide if he is being seduced, or captured.

Bucky’s mouth comes down on his, bites lightly at his lip, and then parts Tony’s lips, exploring the inside of Tony’s mouth. Tony just floats there, locked in Bucky’s grasp, wanting to respond but having no idea what to do.

“Come on, starfish, kiss me back,” Bucky says between tentative nips and licks at Tony’s mouth. “You can do better than that.”

What, exactly, Tony wonders, is he supposed to do? Just thrust his tongue in Bucky’s mouth like he’s hunting for mollusks, or what? Bucky’s hair floats in the water, a swirling cloud of brown, so soft, and Tony finds himself putting his hands there, wanting to feel the tendrils against his fingers, and Bucky groans into his mouth.

Tony likes it when Bucky licks the top of his mouth, over his teeth, and then along the line of his lip, so he tries that, and the octomer practically melts into him. So, successful experimentation. Tony does it again, and then again. Tries something new, sucking Bucky’s tongue back into his own mouth, tasting it, and that’s even better. Bucky’s rubbing against him, one of his tentacles sliding along Tony’s chest, then around his belly, teasing at his lower fins. It feels good, and weird and makes him all squirmy at the same time. He can’t decide if he wants to push into Bucky, or pull away, so he just stays there, accepting it as Bucky _does things_ to him that make him hot and wriggly inside.

When the tip of Bucky’s tentacle rubs against Tony’s slit, he straight up groans. No one ever touches that, and it’s difficult for Tony to keep it closed, the sweet caress makes him want to open up and give himself over. He pulls Bucky’s neck, tugging until their mouths close together again, because he can’t stand it, he wants it to stop and he wants it _never_ to stop, and he’s reaching for something without even knowing what it is--

Suddenly there’s nothing there but empty ocean, and Bucky puts almost the entire space of the alcove between them. He’s heaving for oxygen, one tentacle pressing to his hearts, the others twisting and twining together.

“What? What, did I--” _do something wrong? Why did you stop?_ And Tony can’t ask those questions, can’t put himself out there like that.

“It’s not you,” Bucky says, gulping more water. “It’s me. You’re tired and scared and you need to eat, and it’s not… I shouldn’t…”

“No, no, you absolutely should, whatever it was, that--” Tony bursts out, and then the expression of guilt on Bucky’s face falls away, giving way to a smile that -- while it doesn’t warm Tony’s insides as much as the kisses and touches do -- certainly does _something_ in there.

“Oh, you _liked_ it,” Bucky purrs.

“Of course I liked it,” Tony says. “Was I not supposed to?” Tony’s all hot and bothered, squirmy, and wriggly and he can’t look at Bucky straight on.

“I like that you like it,” Bucky says. “And I’ll like it even more, after we eat.”

He slides in, brushes his mouth against Tony’s cheek and then he’s gone, out into the deep, speeding away with a rush of water and a wicked laugh.

Typical.

Tony starts pushing rocks around, making their small, defensible shelter even more defensible. Nothing bigger than a shrimp can get in, without Tony seeing it. He shoves sand in the cracks between the rocks, and waits.

Octomers are good hunters. Tony supposes that the extra limbs, even if a few of them are missing or too short to be useful, helps.

Bucky brings back armfulls of oysters and a few flat fish with too-big eyes and very succulent meat. He finds a pearl in one oyster and spends the rest of the evening holding it tight in one suckered arm, using a piece of man-thing to bore a hole right through it. He threads this onto a string -- braided oceanreeds and a few strands of Bucky’s own hair, and presents the whole thing to Tony with an air of shyness that Tony can’t help but find adorable.

“This is a good spot,” Bucky repeats. “Could be roomier, worried about your fins, starfish. Ain’t you getting cramped up?”

Tony is getting cramped. The alcove seems to press down on him, makes him more aware of how exposed everything is, outside the alcove. The weight of the stones above him worries him. It could collapse. “I’m listening to an alternative?”

“If you’re up for a little swim,” Bucky says, cracking open another mollusk and getting at the sweet flesh inside, “there’s a manthing, not far from here. Lots of cave space. A few fish schools make their home there, hunting would be good.”

“If it’s so nice, why were you hanging around the village?”

“Got lonely,” Bucky says. “But now I’ve got you, starfish.”

“And I’ve got you,” Tony says. At least, he thinks he does. Bucky doesn’t complain, or protest. Instead, he swims closer and wraps Tony up in those arms of his.

“Yeah, you do,” Bucky says.

Tony nods, his hands going up into Bucky’s hair again. He loves Bucky’s hair, it’s so pretty and soft. “And what’s that going to cost me, this home of yours?”

Bucky hugs him tighter. “Kisses are acceptable currency.”

“Just so happens,” Tony says, tipping his head, “I happen to have a kiss or two on me.”

 

 

 


End file.
